


Breathe You in so Deep

by Nitzer



Category: VIXX
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Canon Compliant, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Heats/Ruts, Smut in the last chapter, alpha hyuk, background kenvi and neo, both traditional and non traditional a/b/o dynamics, hongbin's idea of flirting is roasting hyuk, i'm really just like picking and choosing what i like lol, it's implied that it's hyuk's first time but only implied, ofc the title is from scentist, omega hongbin, this is tbh kinda an a/b/o romcom, this isn't as sexy as you'd think for a/b/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitzer/pseuds/Nitzer
Summary: Hyuk and Hongbin learn to ignore their outdated instincts in a world that's moved past them. And then they learn when to listen to them.





	1. Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vixx can't just drop a sexy song all about smell and expect me NOT to make an a/b/o fic  
> anyway this was supposed to be a oneshot but then somehow the wordcount was like 9k and i decided just to chapter it

Before Hongbin even shows up at the company and properly introduces himself I hear whisperings of a pretty omega—a _beautiful_ omega—that just auditioned. The rumors shoot my expectations through the roof because the staff has never whispered about any trainee being beautiful before. Not Taekwoon who has the interesting features and angles of a model. Not even Hakyeon who’s sharp and delicate features are clearly beautiful, almost hypnotizing. But there’s a _beautiful_ omega coming. And my stupid, adolescent alpha hormones go wild at the thought.

I don’t even know what I dream up a “beautiful omega” to be. I keep getting stuck on being stunned and breathless upon seeing them. Plenty of the staff noonas could be considered “beautiful omegas,” their scents often obscured under sweet perfumes and the scents of their spouses. Jaehwan could absolutely be considered a “beautiful omega,” his scent and unmarked neck always bared like some kind of temptation for everyone around him. But none of that factors into what I dream this omega— _my_ omega, I think sometimes—to be.

There is a new omega flitting around the company building. He’s barely taller than me, all scrawny, wiry muscle that leaves him looking unhealthy. His jawline is sharp and his eyes are wide—wider than mine at least—and sparkle prettily. The skin I can see on his arms and hands is littered with small, surface wounds and scratches all the way down to his thin, delicate little fingers. He smells delicate too, barely fruity and lightly floral like some picturesque field out in the country. We never properly get to meet. Whenever he sees me, all we manage is brief eye contact before his eyes flit away nervously and one of the staff members ushers him elsewhere. The new omega’s pretty, I guess, has his own charms but I’m never awestruck by him the way one of our staff would have to be to whisper “beautiful omega” like they’ve been doing. So, the delicate scent of flowers just wafts under my nose and fades.

One afternoon, one of the staff members gather all of us in the practice room to let the new trainee properly introduce himself. It’s the delicate omega that smells like flowers. His voice is deep and silky but lacks the kind of commanding force I’d usually associate with something so deep and full of bass. Even Hakyeon’s shrill and soft voice carries more force than his. He introduces himself as “Hongbin” the omega that all the staff were whispering about—the _beautiful_ omega. And all my stupid, adolescent fantasies of _my_ beautiful omega crumble before me. This scrawny kid doesn’t smell like mine, doesn’t take my breath away. He makes shaky eye contact with all of us and skillfully ducks Hakyeon’s attempt at a hug. He is a disappointment by not living up to the standards of a fantasy I can no longer recreate. It’s a stupid and childish frustration that builds inside of me. But I’m still a stupid and childish alpha.

Both fortunately and unfortunately, all of my future members have presented by the time they get to Jellyfish. Unfortunately, because they try to push the leader role onto soft-spoken and easily-embarrassed Taekwoon because he’s the oldest alpha instead of the clearly more willing and qualified Hakyeon who’s a beta. But fortunately because every member of the staff can instantly smell the unpredictable waves of my scent and know that they’re dealing with an overeager, over-aggressive, spitfire of a young alpha. Which inevitably leads to a tight leash and a close eye on me until my hormones slow down. Also fortunately because Jaehwan’s naturally flirty and mildly exhibitionist tendencies combined with his utter refusal to cover up his unclaimed neck or scent was going to burn his idol image before he even debuted if the company didn’t do something about it.

But the company does nothing about our delicate omega, Hongbin. He never bares his unmarked neck like Jaehwan loves to. And his scent is so delicate and light, barely noticeable over the nearly sickly sweet caramel and chocolate scent of Jaehwan. Hongbin’s omega nature even gets chewed up in his debut image. The company sends him out to be muscled and manly—sexy in an aggressive, almost alpha way and not in the flirty, pouty way that Jaehwan is. But Hongbin’s guarded personality and deep voice made it easy to play an alpha. Especially when his scent was so light even to the alphas he lived with. I mean the company never outright said that Hongbin was an alpha but it was implied and they certainly didn’t say that he was an omega either.

I think it’s right after the company tells us that they’re moving all of us into a new dorm together that Hongbin finally says anything to us more substantial than his name. It’s probably the millionth time he’s ducked a hug from Hakyeon but that’s not really a big deal. Hongbin is good at making his rejections not feel like rejections, good at avoiding situations he doesn’t want to be in smoothly. But it was like the millionth time he’d dodged any kind of contact, mostly with Hakyeon, and it’s getting kinda obvious.

Hakyeon sighs softly, taking on that air of gentle authority he uses when he doesn’t understand the situation but has to fix it. “Bin-ah,” he starts softly, “do you not like skinship?”

I can see Hongbin’s pupils shaking from where I am, far away from the action. He flicks his bangs out of his eyes nervously a few times before he finally responds. “I don’t like being touched.” His voice is low and firm but doesn’t carry any weight with it.

Hakyeon clicks his tongue like he’s rethinking things but after a beat of silence he apologizes. And that’s what we know about Hongbin, our beautiful omega, he doesn’t like being touched. I have to admit, it’s a bold move for such a delicate thing.

It’s not until the company wants to film “behind the scenes” videos of us in the practice room and at our dorms that Hongbin’s aversion to touch becomes a problem. “The fans like skinship, you can’t keep hiding, Hongbin.” The director of the video tells Hongbin, exasperatedly after he ducked a casual arm around the shoulder from Wonsik. “Here, move in with Hyukkie.” He suggests, pulling Hongbin from the end of the line we’re standing in to stand next to me.

It’s probably a bad idea to slide Hongbin in with me. He’s always clearly been more comfortable with Taekwoon or Wonsik and there wasn’t really a “maknae _line._ ”  There was just me, the maknae, and the 93-liners. And I’m aggressive and dumb and overstep boundaries that I don’t even realize are there to begin with. And Taekwoon only barely puts up with me because he’s a hyung and he’s supposed to be patient and if I’m getting on another _alpha’s_ nerves, god only knows what the others are feeling. And Hongbin doesn’t seem to really like me anyway. We rarely spend any time together and I feel like I know the least about him. He seems to like his distance from me anyway.

He flinches, doing his nervous twitching thing when the camera director tucks him under my arm. His skin feels feverishly warm under my touch and it smells more strongly of flowers than I’ve ever smelled from Hongbin. But I guess he _is_ always on the other side of the room or in a different room altogether from me. And when the camera stops recording, the scent of flowers sticks on my clothes.

Later that week me and Hongbin end up being the only ones home for dinner when the company has graciously decided to order us dumplings for the success of something I don’t really understand.

It doesn’t matter though because there are warm dumplings sitting on our kitchen counter after a brutal debut schedule. Hakyeon has to do something with the company and Jaehwan is out with friends and none of us could pry Wonsik from the studio that the company let him use ever since they let him use it and Taekwoon is always disappearing without warning. So it’s just me and Hongbin. Which is _ideal_ because Hongbin isn’t a big eater and there is a whole platter of warm, free dumplings just sitting there. For me.

Hongbin hovers around, eyes the platter from a safe distance even though they’re as much his as mine. “You want some?” I finally offer, holding a dumpling out to him, my mouth still full of food.

He nervously flicks his bangs out of his eyes but, under that, I still notice the way he instinctually flinches away from me.

“They’re good.” I tempt, pushing the dumpling closer to his mouth. I notice his fingers shake a little bit but he lets me push the dumpling into his mouth anyway. “Yeah?” I ask, his mouth still full of food.

“Good.” He manages unsurely around the dumpling. He wanders closer, crowding the platter but keeping at least an arm’s length between us. And that’s a clear boundary I can’t really trip over. And I’m sure I’ve done it before because I’m a clumsy, overeager, too young alpha and Hongbin has a lot of boundaries, some of them a lot less clear than this. And maybe that’s why Hongbin is always keeping his clear distance. His arm brushes against mine as we both lean in for a dumpling and the same time and he recoils like it _hurts_.

“Do you really hate being touched that bad?” I ask, my brain steps behind my mouth like the clumsy, too young alpha I am—all instincts, no thought.

Hongbin looks down at his empty chopsticks, his hand drawn in towards his chest like he didn’t expect such a violent reaction either. “I just…” He sighs. “It’s hard for me to trust people to touch me.” He lets his arms drop to his sides. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad with your boundaries.” I spit out before it gets caught in my throat.

“ _You_?” He cries. “It’s not you, you haven’t done anything. It’s me…mostly…and like Hakyeon and Jaehwan a little bit.”

“Jaehwan?” Jaehwan was touchy and clingy and, god, he loved attention but he was quick to back off when it was clear he wasn’t getting any. He hated looking desperate nearly as much as he loved attention.

He rolls his eyes. “Right, I almost forgot we got the baby alpha. He’s so much worse with omegas, you wouldn’t get it.”

“ _Jaehwan_?” I repeat in a higher pitch. _Our_ Jaehwan? Our perfect, cute little omega who only had eyes for growling, strong, musky-smelling alphas?

“He like actually _keeps his distance_ from you because you’re an alpha. God, you never noticed?” He huffs. “With omegas it’s all ‘oh, I’d never make a move on an omega, don’t worry, this doesn’t mean anything’ while his hand is down my fucking pants.”

I snort. It’s inappropriate, I know. I’m trying to apologize here. But it’s just so fucking funny. It’s just so easy to imagine Jaehwan all draped over Hongbin, touching him in literally every way possible and trying to placate him with a meaningless “don’t worry, I’m an omega too.” I’d gotten maybe two half-hearted hugs out of Taekwoon, the only other alpha in the group, since I’d known him. So, I _didn’t_ get it in, like, _any_ capacity. “I’m sorry.” I get out. “It’s just so funny.”

He snorts out something that’s light and deep at the same time and it rings in my ears. “It is…” He trails off like he’s just hearing what he said. “It is funny, fine.” He looks at the plate of dumplings in front of us and the crowded counter again. “But it’s really none of your guys’ fault or anything, it’s just how I am.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I still feel like I could’ve been better at backing off, I know it’s not one of my strong suits.” I laugh like it doesn’t hurt to admit. It still hurts to admit that I’m not great at anything because I’m still a too young, headstrong alpha ready to conquer the entire world.

He rolls his eyes again, moving in closer to the counter, close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off of him. “Cool it, alpha.” He mocks. “It’s really not you.”

“I just don’t wanna make things worse.” I defend.

He shoves another dumpling in his mouth. “You’re not.” He groans in frustration around the food. “You haven’t done anything.” He uses his free hand to push back the shoulder-length, wispy, barely curly, brown hair that they gave him for debut. And he almost looks relaxed for a second. And I do see a flash of something beautiful there in his ratty tank top and worn sweats, mouth full of food. I see something really beautiful.

“I like the hair on you. I didn’t think the company would really go through with it.” I’m still leaning on the counter but all of my attention is on Hongbin, not the dumplings.

“Neither did I.” He snorts. “My image is all over the fucking place, they have no idea what to do with me.” His eyes are pretty firmly trained on the dumplings but his movements are smooth and so is his voice. It’s the first time I’ve seen him do anything _smoothly_ except avoid things.

“But like, it looks really good on you. Really.”

He finally looks up to meet my eyes and they waver for a second before they’re confident and warm again. “What? Do you think we’re _friends_ now?” He snorts.

“We’re supposed to be like family, aren’t we?” I correct, fishing for another dumpling.

Hongbin fake gags. “God, I hope not. Not with where Jaehwan’s hands have been on me, disgusting.” A fond smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, though and he sets the fattest, best-looking dumpling in front of me. But I suddenly can’t smell the dumplings at all because I’m being choked in the sweetest way by something delicate and floral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first a/b/o and i'm not like a HUGE fan of vixx so call me out at angelinmyheartt.tumlbr.com or @nitzer37 on twitter if need be  
> (i know this is like G right not but i promise the M will come in later don't call me out for that yet)


	2. Take Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys haven't been following literal fossils Shinhwa, Andy and Junjin have publicly talked about being "same age friends" and "co-maknaes" even tho Junjin is a 80-liner and Andy is a 81-liner and that's what Hongbin is talking about

The next dance practice me and Hongbin get sent to go get coffee for everyone as “maknae line” even though there has clearly never _been_ a “maknae line.” There’s just been the maknae and even then we have managers and interns and shit who should be in charge of coffee runs. But I don’t mind a break from the stuffy practice room which always starts to smell nauseatingly like a combination of sickly sweet Jaehwan, sharp and sour Taekwoon and me after a hard practice. But even after the worst practices, I can never find Hongbin’s delicate scent in the mix.

“Shouldn’t this be your job, baby alpha?” Hongbin asks, squinting into the bright afternoon sun outside of the company building.

“This should be anyone else’s job.” I snort. “Plus, you’re kinda the other maknae.”

“’Other maknae’?” He scoffs. “There is no ‘other maknae’ this isn’t fucking Shinhwa.” I see some other sharp complaint ready on his tongue when the back of my hand just barely skims his while it swings aimlessly at my side. He doesn’t flinch away but he _freezes_ , his hand stuck mid-swing unnaturally. My hand continues its swing naturally and the contact is broken just as quickly as it was made. But Hongbin is still frozen, his foot not quite touching the ground.

I can see that there is a conscious effort in not flinching away like it hurts—I briefly wonder if it _does_ hurt—and that’s leaving him stuck unnaturally like the world’s least flattering statue. But he’s _trying_ not to flinch. I don’t know if the effort is for me or him but it makes my heart clench in unexpected concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” I rush out, choking on foreign emotions.

And Hongbin’s foot finally hits the ground but he’s not moving forward anymore. At least with both feet on the ground and hands by his side, he looks more like he’s just casually standing around. I see the air rush back into his lungs, his shoulders finally relax. “I know you didn’t mean to, it’s not a big deal, really.”

“I’m really sorry.” I try again, reaching my hand out for his shoulder instinctively. His eyes follow my hand and I flinch backwards once I realize what I’m trying to do. “S-sorry.” I stutter out. “Sorry.”

The tense line of his shoulders is back but he’s wearing that fake confidence—that false casualness—that I’ve seen from him before on top of it. “So timid for an alpha.” He jokes.

And there are a million ways to tell him that it’s all because of him. That I’m choking on all this unexpected worry. That I want to be better for him. That I want to be more than an over-excited alpha running on outdated instincts. That this is _for him_. But I can’t find one that feels right with him already closing off in front of me. “You could be cuter for an omega.” I shoot back.

He snorts. “We already have Jaehwan.” He keeps walking towards the café, still close enough that our hands could brush. And he knows already, that it could.

The silence between us is unexpectedly tense, all the jokes clearly strained. And I watch my hand come so close to his they might as well have touched again. And I nearly flinch just as bad as Hongbin. “Is this ok?” I ask instead, gesturing to how close we were.

Hongbin freezes again like the question is entirely foreign. His eyebrows knit together, surprise and confusion written all over his face. I really think no one has ever asked him that before. But it’s so hard to imagine delicate, delicate Hongbin going through life with everyone either ignoring his boundaries entirely or just never coming near him. It was almost impossible to imagine. At _least_ Taekwoon or Wonsik had to ask at some point.

I brush the back of my hand purposefully against his but still light, still barely a touch. “Is _this_ ok?” I ask again.

He’s still frozen, a slight frown on his pretty face, still thinking too hard.

“I won’t touch you anymore than that, I promise. I won’t touch you at all if this isn’t ok.” I prod.

“It’s…” He still doesn’t look entirely himself, doesn’t look as sure as he usually is before he starts talking. “It’s ok.” He finally, slowly lets out.

“Yeah?” I confirm. We still aren’t touching at all, in any way but there’s a possibility that I _could_ be—in small, insignificant ways like this but still. It’s something I didn’t even realize I wanted so bad until it’s a possibility in front of me.

He brushes his hand against mine purposefully—once, twice and he _smiles_. “It’s ok.” He repeats, looking pleased with himself. “This is ok.” And Hongbin is in high spirits the rest of our short walk to the café, brushing our hands together enough that it’s a familiar sensation. When we get to the café, we both reach for the door at the same time, my entire hand laying over his ( _eclipsing_ his but it does me no good to focus on his delicate hands). I expect him to pull away again, I almost pull away again. This is much more than a brush. But the smile doesn’t even drop from his face. “This is ok.” He repeats like it’s a mantra. And the café drowns me in the scent of coffee and caramel and chocolate, so strong, so much like Jaehwan that I can’t even pick out the delicate floral scent right under my nose. And for the first time, I miss it.

It becomes some kind of game to Hongbin, really. He’ll brush his hand against my skin and I won’t do anything. I’ll just let him touch—gently, fleetingly, imploringly—and so he does. I’m an experiment for him. I’m the first. And it’s almost, kind of a game to me too. It’s fun in some way, to watch Hongbin get bolder with his touches when he’s allowed to just explore.

It’s another dance practice and I’m already choking on sweet caramel and chocolate and sharp vinegar and green tea, even my spicy and woodsy scent is starting to bother me and there’s still nothing delicate or floral to be found in the mix. Hakyeon wrinkles his nose distastefully and I’m guessing that the combination of scents has even made it to his beta nose. He claps his hands together too enthusiastically for this late into dance practice, sharply and commandingly. “Alright, I’ll give you guys like a…” He taps his finger against his chin thoughtfully, “ten minute break? Fifteen minute?”

“Fifteen.” Taekwoon’s light and soft voice nearly commands from where he’s slumped over on the floor.

Hakyeon’s eyes sparkle with something mischievous and scary that I want nothing to do with. “Fine.” He acquiesces too easily to mean anything good. “Fifteen.”

I see Jaehwan and Wonsik exchange nervous and amused looks. “C’mon, Sikkie, you owe me a snack from the vending machine.” Jaehwan giggles, pulling Wonsik out of the practice room behind him.

Hongbin catches my eye from across the room and raises his eyebrows knowingly, his eyes darkly amused. He flicks his head towards the door and I wordlessly follow. He stops and settles down on a bench in the hallway, I don’t see either Wonsik or Jaehwan near the vending machine at the end of the hall. So I’m guessing the whole snack thing was just an excuse to get out of there too.

“If _Jaehwan_ doesn’t wanna stick around to deal with…whatever _that_ was, I don’t think anyone else can handle it.” Hongbin snorts as an explanation.

I slump down next to him, basking in the AC vent above our heads. “What do you think is gonna happen?” I ask, pushing a cold water bottle into his hands.

“Alpha’s gonna get _whipped_.” He sings teasingly.

“Just for asking for a longer break?” I question, watching Hongbin press the water bottle to his flushed face.

“You gotta put alphas back in their place every once in a while, otherwise they get out of control.” He eyes me darkly from under pretty eyelashes. “ _You_ should know.”

“So Hakyeon’s in charge of Taekwoon and… _you’re_ in charge of me?” I pry.

He punches my arm weakly. “I’m not in charge of shit except being the face of this group, baby alpha.” The nickname rolls off his tongue with no lack of venom like always but it’s still playful. “But if they need someone to remind you of your place, I’m willing to help out.”

“We appreciate your sacrifice.” I snort.

I guess he has no sharp comments left for me on his tongue because he just lays his head delicately on my shoulder and lets his eyes slip closed. He doesn’t seem entirely comfortable yet—seems ready to bolt upright and skitter away at any moment—with his whole body still tensed against mine. This is just another test of what I will give Hongbin and what he can take. I don’t mind being still against him until he relaxes anymore, though, it’s just part of the process. He does relax eventually, his shoulders sagging against me and lets out a long, quiet breath into my neck. The collar of his loose tank top slides down, the strap slipping down his shoulder and I see the junction between his neck and his shoulder for the first time. It’s bare. All his skin is bare. He’s unmarked. Unclaimed.

I always figure that Hongbin is unmarked even if I rarely dwell on it. It’s near suicide to go into this industry as a marked omega—regardless of _how_ you got the mark—and that’s _if_ any company will take you in the first place. It’s near unheard of. So I figure Hongbin is unmarked the same way I figure Jaehwan is unmarked, no one’s gonna confirm or deny it anyway. Omegas cover up their necks in public weather they’re marked or not, it’s just common decency. But I am trusted enough to lean against with his eyes closed. I’m trusted enough to see that almost glittering patch of bare, _bare_ skin and there is a world of difference between knowing and _seeing_.

And I’m only an inexperienced, overeager alpha. I want to sink my teeth into his neck. Of course, I want to claim him. It’s biology. It’s why omegas cover up in public. But this isn’t public. I’m someone Hongbin trusts, clearly. And my mouth is still flooded, preparing to bite and mark. My jaw is clenched with the effort it takes not to move, not to _give_ _in_. And the whole hallway is flooded with the scent of damp earth and cloves—spicy and woodsy and so overwhelming that it wipes out anything else that might’ve been there first.

Hongbin tenses against me again, his shoulders drawing up. His breath hitches with the tiniest, almost inaudible whimper and I don’t want to scare him. I’m too old to be an overeager alpha who can’t control his own outdated biology. I can’t make excuses forever. So I hold myself rigidly still on that uncomfortable bench, Hongbin just as still against me until Hakyeon tells us that break is over because my self-control is frayed and close to snapping. But I can’t. Hongbin _trusts_ me. So I keep all my muscles tensed and don’t say anything and _ache_ for the scent of something delicate and floral instead of my own overwhelming smell.

I guess that doesn’t break Hongibn’s trust—I guess _I_ don’t manage to break Hongbin’s trust because his presence starts to spill out into the common spaces of the dorm. There is food he likes in the fridge, a jacket he wore flung over the back of the couch and, occasionally, his self perched precariously in the kitchen. It’s a free day but I’ve always figured that I don’t _get_ to know what Hongbin does with his free time just like I don’t get to know what Taekwoon does. I already know that Hakyeon has left to visit friends at a dance studio I only barely remember the name of and I always figure that Wonsik is probably locked up in his studio and, with how quiet the dorms are, Jaehwan is probably with him.

Hongbin is leaning against the counter over a bowl of leftover soup from maybe Hakyeon or maybe the takeout restaurant we all settle for when we don’t feel like fighting over dinner. “I didn’t think you’d still be home.” He mutters casually and I guess we _are_ the last ones home in the late morning. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Trying to get rid of me?” I tease.

“If I could have just one day free of the stench of alpha.” He sighs wistfully. “But really, everyone else already left and I’m only gonna be here for like another hour.”

“Oh, where is our shut-in going?” I ask before I even realize I’m crossing a boundary I’ve never crossed before. It’s the first time I’m asking about Hongbin when he’s not directly in front of me and I don’t even realize what I’m doing until it’s already out there.

“Don’t worry, I’m only going to a PC café, not straying too far from comfort.” He snorts and I’m vaguely aware that Hongbin likes games. But only vaguely, only filtered through Wonsik or Hakyeon or someone else.

“All by yourself?” I prod because we have decent internet here and I’ve seen Hongbin’s computer set-up, it’s like a genuine work of art. If he just wanted to game he could’ve stayed home easily.

“Why do you care?” He kicks at my legs playfully.

“What if I wanna kick your ass at League?” I challenge.

And he never shrunk at any alpha’s challenge— _never_ but now he puffs out his chest at me, his eyes narrowing with his own challenge. “Even Chansik can’t kick my ass and he’s always hanging out with pro players.”

“So, _that’s_ who you’re going with?” I conclude, ending our challenge before it even began.

“Wonsik was supposed to come with me too but you know how he is with his fucking studio.” His body deflates, all the challenge leaking out into the air. He curls back in on himself, playing with his fingers nervously. “Do you really wanna go?”

“Chansik won’t mind?” I ask. “ _You_ won’t mind?” I realize is the more pressing question.

“No, he’s—” he stutters on his words, “never mind. I’m cordially inviting you so no, I don’t mind.”

It’s almost fun to get an unexpectedly interesting tidbit out of Hongbin, he’s always so high-strung and defensive and I’m always treading oh so carefully to avoid losing his trust. I never get anything out of him really unless it slips out on its own. And I only know B1A4 in passing. I know Jaehwan and Sanduel are near inseparable and I know in theory that Hongbin and Chansik are friends but we rarely promote at the same time and I rarely see them. “You wanna finish your thought on Chansik?” I pry, sliding closer with interest.

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “You’ll figure out on your own. Just remember that I swear he’s a beta.”

It’s not hard to figure out what Hongbin was talking about when I first meet Chansik. He’s all charming, borderline shy smiles and unavoidable charisma. He is easy to get swept up in with his endless and obvious beauty and his passion for games. But it’s somehow more than just charisma and beauty. I’m _drawn_ to Chansik like it’s written in my biology—like he _is_ an omega. My eyes always fall to his uncovered neck and even though nothing glittering there on the skin, there is no obvious patch for me to sink my teeth into, I still have the nagging desire to sink my teeth into his neck. He smells like a beta, fleshy and vaguely like laundry detergent or shampoo. There’s nothing sweet there, there’s not even anything strong. There’s nothing omega about it but it is still intoxicating. It’s baffling and half-frustrating to have to be fighting my own stupidly overwhelming instincts for a _beta_. A beta I _know_ is a beta. A beta that Hongbin _promised_ is a beta.

Chansik seems entirely unphased by the attention I’m trying not to lavish on him and promptly kicks my ass in League. In my defense, though, I’m distracted. I can’t even remember if Hongbin and Chansik end up playing against each other or who wins if they do. It’s a blur of losing, losing, losing and trying not to growl over Chansik’s inexplicable draw. But Chansik bails earlier than Hongbin wants to go home, leaving me with a blinding smile and attraction (or something like it) settling uneasily in the pit of my stomach.

“He’s a _beta_?” I hiss to Hongbin over the ramyeon we’re eating during a gaming break.

“This is why I _swore_ to you he was earlier.” Hongbin looks mildly annoyed but mostly unflustered.

“Are you sure he’s not just a late bloomer? I mean he’s just so…” I trail off because Hongbin already seems mostly annoyed with alpha bullshit and I don’t blame him. Explaining how much I want to sink my teeth into every omega that crosses my path—how sometimes even _Jaehwan’s_ scent flusters me—would do little to instill any confidence in me.

“He’s my age, Hyuk, he’s a _beta_.”  He says firmly.

I’m obviously chewing on my words before they get a chance to spill out of my mouth. I just can’t find a way to describe how much like an omega Chansik feels without getting into the uncontrollable attraction every omega stirs in me even if it’s getting easier to squash with time.

“He attracts every alpha he’s ever passed by, don’t worry.” His face softens up and he pushes me gently. “Look at you, all torn up over a beta you just met.” He laughs.

“It’s weird! He’s a _beta_!” I defend, a flustered blush creeping up my neck.

He sighs and it’s almost…affectionate? Like someone indulging a child. “The alphas in his group have it even worse for him, don’t worry. Well, at least Jinyoung and Dongwoo, Sunwoo doesn’t care but we also think he’s mated so there’s…that.” He finishes with his eyebrows raised, inviting me to ask questions. And it’s easy to not think about Chansik anymore—not really, at least—with Hongbin huddled up next to me, gossiping about all of his idol friends. I have little to add. My celebrity friends are mostly passing acquaintances and when they’re not they’re probably of no interest to Hongbin. (I mean, does he really want to know about Sangwon’s company going bankrupt and the various, terrible ways everyone in the group was coping with it?)

We don’t leave the café until the sun is well below the horizon and neither of us even bother calling our manager to pick us up. We walk home comfortably—Hongbin still talking about idol gossip with me filling in the gaps in his theories with whatever errant information I happen to remember about people who aren’t really my friends but I guess have to count as my colleagues. Hongbin’s wearing exactly what you’d expect of an idol going to a PC café, jeans and a sweatshirt with a mask covering his mouth but I don’t notice until the streetlights don’t illuminate anything but his furtive smile and wide eyes. And it hits me then, Hongbin mid-word, that he spent a whole day with me. There were no schedules or anything. He just wanted to spend the whole day with me, even when Chansik is already long gone. I don’t smell inexplicably intoxicating beta anymore, I’m not thinking about his wide smiles and picture perfect beauty. Because my senses have been flooded all day with the delicate scent of fruit and flowers. My clothes probably even smell like sweet, sweet omega and it’s not Jaehwan this time. And I don’t mind one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd die before giving up a chance to talk about Gongchan's pro gamer friends but also thank god Hongbin is a little gamer gremlin irl bc it's so easy to write for him that way lol


	3. Hot Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the m rating comes into play here but only for like a nondescript jack off scene and mentions of heat/rut

Neither of our omegas really nest, not compulsively anyway. Jaehwan sometimes stole bits of stray clothing from everyone—even our managers if they weren’t careful—burying his face in the pile probably more in victory than in comfort. I, honestly, think that he just used “nesting” as an excuse to steal Taekwoon’s favorite clothes without consequences. But he still took my clothes sometimes too, more often than Hongbin did at least. Neither were terrible about it, though. It was just a few sweatshirts from dance practice in the laundry basket, a few stray blankets, the pillows from the couch. It was nothing really.

I had an omega cousin that really _compulsively_ nested. Her parents warned me one summer I spent a night over their house even though I hadn’t even presented yet. She tore through the house and took anything soft or anything that smelled like alpha and bundled them up into a little cocoon on her bed. I could tell she tried not to embarrassed about it in public. When I went to leave her house and get my clothes back from her nest she just shrugged and said, “what can you do about biology?” Maybe she was onto something.

So even in my all-alpha household, I grew up not minding omega’s nesting. It’s no big deal when I find my dance practice hoodie missing. I figure Jaehwan has it so I breeze into his shared room but he’s gone and his bed is more or less bare but Hakyeon is there, perched pristinely on his own bed. “Hey, have you seen my gray hoodie? The one I wear to dance practice all the time?” I ask him casually.

He puts his phone down with every ounce of his dancer grace and a sinister smile on his face. “I think you’ve got the wrong room, Hyogi.” He sings and presses one delicate finger on the home button of his phone, looking away. “You’ve got the wrong omega too.” He mutters more to himself.

I don’t question it because while I know Hakyeon has my best interests at heart, I also know that he will only get to “my best interests” via whatever entertains himself the most. There are some traps I really can’t just walk right into. Especially when I’m only barely, _barely_ on Hongbin’s good side now.

Taekwoon and Hongbin are both absent from their shared room but there is a half-hearted nest on Hongbin’s bed. And, for whatever reason, Wonsik playing around on Hongbin’s computer. I don’t even bother with a “why are you here?” I just dive right into the nest, looking for my hoodie.

“Lost something?” Wonsik also has some sort of conspiratorial glint in his eye. I still don’t care for it.

“Doesn’t matter,” I brush off, “unless _you_ took my favorite hoodie.” I accuse half-heartedly.

“I think you’d have better luck with the omega.” He laughs and I am only just beginning to understand why all of the members have been pointing me to Hongbin.

The whole, barely-assembled nest is made up of my clothes. The _whole_ thing. Even when there was always an alpha merely feet away who he could _ask_ for clothes, there’s nothing from Taekwoon in here. It’s all mine. It’s like everything I dumped in the laundry in the past week just  ended up here and I’m really starting to smell _me_ in the room. I’m starting to _drown_ in it. I wonder how Taekwoon can even stand it, having to smell another alpha in his room like this.

But Hongbin scurried off to the company building already so I don’t get to ask about it. And then I sit on the question too long to ask it. I’m not an omega, I don’t _get_ it. Besides, what can you do about biology, after all?

Jaehwan’s heats are easy and predictable. He tells us that he got all the benefits of suppressants without suppressants. We can all tell when Jaehwan’s in heat, with him clinging to all of us, sneaking into anyone else’s bed at night, rubbing his face on mine and Taekwoon’s stray clothes. But it doesn’t halt anything, VIXX can keep going just fine when Jaehwan is in heat and even the minor inconveniences are mostly pawned off onto Wonsik. It’s not my problem and it’s not my business. But I guess no heat is my problem or my business because my family is all-alpha except my beta mom and I don’t know _anything_ about Hongbin’s heats. I always figure it’s something I’m not allowed to know about him, especially with the only other alpha in the group sharing a room with Hongbin. If he needed an alpha for anything, he had Taekwoon.

So, when Hongbin gets to skip on practice one day because he isn’t feeling well I think he’s sick. I have no reason to think anything else. There’s no other reason for him to be sitting out. I know he likes games but his nervous ticks are too easy to see to play hooky. Plus he’s just as dedicated to this whole thing as the rest of us and wouldn’t be playing hooky anyway. I’m home from the company last, staying after to discuss some of my ideas with our choreographer. When I get home the hallway smells vaguely sweet like desserts but I just figure that Hakyeon is trying his hand at baking again.

When I open the door, I see Hakyeon and Taekwoon occupying different corners of the couch, the chatter of the TV barely reaching me. Taekwoon has the collar of his t-shirt pulled up over his mouth and nose, clearly trying and failing to focus on his book. All of that only barely registers though because I am overwhelmed with smell. It is so, _so_ sweet, bordering on sickening and it is _everywhere_. It is _inescapable_. It’s pungent flowers, so full in bloom that they are on the verge of death. It’s fruit so overripe it’s about to rot. And everything about the scent just _begs_ me to make the best of what’s here, to act quickly while it’s still good. There is nothing delicate about it.

It’s like the scent punches me to the ground. I’m suddenly doubled over, my knees weak. And, I _wish_ this was a joke, but all the blood rushes south so fast it genuinely makes me dizzy. “What’s that smell?” I manage to croak out.

“Oh, you can’t tell?” Hakyeon asks, clearly amused by the whole thing. Of _course_ the beta would be having fun with this. “Hongbin’s in heat.” He finishes, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Clearly.” Taekwoon hisses. “I’m _drowning_. All my shit is gonna reek of omega for _weeks_.”

I don’t respond. I’m not even sure if I _can_. I feel like if I try talking, all that will come out is a growl at this point. I’m so far gone, so high on the smell of an omega in heat, I don’t feel _human_ anymore. I’m all alpha. I’m all instincts and biology. I just rush past Taekwoon and Hakyeon into my room, my hand over my mouth and nose the entire time like I can stop what’s already happening. Like I have any power over my own biology. It’s thankfully empty but that’s the only stroke of luck I’ve encountered since Hongbin left the company building.

I frantically shove down my sweats and _claw_ into my bed, digging into cloth and imagining skin. I don’t even get my boxers all the way out of the way before I’m rutting into my pillow. Really rutting. Hongbin’s heat was making me _rut_. And there was nothing I could do against my own biology. It’s not even jacking off really, it’s compulsive. I can’t stop. It’s just my own ragged breathing and the heavy, heady, _sweet_ scent of omega all over my clothes and my room—coating my tongue. I cum with a long, low growl, clawing into my bed so hard I rip the comforter open. And I’m just barely, barely starting to smell myself under the scent of omega.

On the other side of my wall I hear frantic whining and the soft thump of someone tossing and turning in their bed. I know it’s Hongbin. Logically, it’s too high-pitched to be him but in the pit of my stomach I _know_ it’s Hongbin. It’s long desperate whines mixed in with frantic panting. Somehow, I feel like the scent of overripe fruit and flowers gets stronger. There’s another voice too—someone quiet and gentle, trying to soothe Hongbin.

I bite down into the meat of my palm because I _have_ to. I have to bite into something and I know my body is growling for the neck of an omega but that’s not happening. Maybe not ever with my evidently piss-poor self-control and lack of experience. I watch my knot inflate uselessly into the air. Because this is nothing. This is _nothing_ but being a too young, inexperienced, overeager baby alpha. Except I can’t say that with the scent of Hongbin—not just overripe fruit and sweet omega but _Hongbin_ —still coating my tongue. Because from the fucking second I walked through that door and really smelled him I haven’t stopped growling _mine_ in my head. It smells like Hongbin and overripe fruit and flowers. But, most importantly, it smells like _mine_.

When I wake up the next morning, Taekwoon is in Wonsik’s bed and it still smells like sweet omega but I’m no longer choking on it. I’m no longer just a vehicle for alpha hormones, I’m human again. I wonder if Hongbin feels human again too with the barely human and entirely unlike him whines from yesterday still echoing in my ears. Our schedules have been rearranged for Hongbin’s heat, giving me the day off too.

I still don’t see Hongbin out of his room. I don’t see much of anyone around the dorms. It’s not until I sit down to play some games in my own room that I see any trace of Hongbin at all. He’s online. We both get into the voice chat while queuing up for a League game. “Do you know why Taekwoon’s staying in my room right now?” I ask as my opening. It seems like the only safe question on my mind. His heat still isn’t my business and telling him that he made me _rut_ certainly wouldn’t help my case.

“Manager-hyung mixed up all the dorms because they wanted Jaehwan to stay with me while,” he coughed nervously and I could almost see the way he shook his bangs out of his eyes compulsively through the wall, “I’m in heat and all.” He rushes out “in heat” quietly and hurriedly.

“But they were fine with Taekwoon being in there normally?” I laugh. The industry really has no idea what they’re doing with any of us, especially not an inexperienced company like Jellyfish.

“I swear to you, they _forgot_ Taekwoon was an alpha for like a whole month after we moved into this dorm.” He laughs with me.

“What happened when they remembered?” I pry.

He laughs harder. “Manager hyung had to sit down with us and read out this like whole powerpoint presentation about how the company is ‘trusting’ us with this ‘privilege’ or whatever.” He snorts and I can nearly hear him waving his hand around at the bullshit. “Basically they made us promise not to fuck—actually they didn’t even bother with that, they just told us not to let me ‘get marked’ like that’s something that just _happens_ unless you’re vigilantly fighting off alphas every second.” He sighs. “It was all bullshit anyway. Me and Taekwoon are _not_ happening.”

My stomach sinks at his joking mention of “fending off alphas.” He trusts Taekwoon enough to share a room with him—to find sharing his heat with our other omega a _nuisance_. Alphas aren’t a real problem for Hongbin because he trusts us, because we’re all civilized here. And me growling for him and clawing into my own bed because all I smell is sweet omega and I think it’s _mine_ isn’t doing me any favors. At least Hongbin trusted the right alpha and the company trusted the right alpha because it clearly wasn’t me. “Is Jaehwan there now?” I ask, off-handedly. It has seemed like we were the only ones home all day.

“No,” he sighed, “yesterday was probably the worst of it. I’m doing fine on my own today.” I could see him restlessly clicking between characters on the loading screen. “Plus with Jaehwan in here too, I feel like I’m always choking on omega sweet.” He snorts unconvincingly. “I feel like the smell alone is gonna give me cavities. I actually wouldn’t mind alpha stench right now—” He cuts himself off. “Not because of the heat, y’know? Just for something that’s _not_ sweet.” He sighs.

“You don’t want talk about it?” I supply.

“I’m just not any good at talking about it.” He sighs even louder. “I mean, I never had to before.”

“When does Taekwoon go back to his room?” I’m also eager to get Wonsik back. Taekwoon and I usually keep a good distance because alphas always chafe with each other but we were especially incompatible.

“Whenever the company decides I’m ‘safe’ or whatever.” He complains. “I feel like I’m being put in ‘omega quarantine’ until my heat is over. I mean it’s not like I’m contagious! Especially not to alphas.” I have to physically bite my tongue to not just randomly spill that he made me go into a rut while staring down the loading screen of _League of Legends_. That’s just _not_ happening. “And I know everyone’s trying their best,” he sighs, his anger cooling, “but spending this much time with Jaehwan is gonna _kill_ me.” He groans.

“If it’s any consolation,” I offer, “if Taekwoon spends much more time in this room, he’s gonna kill me.”

Hongbin snorts out a familiar little, half-laugh. “Oh, so now he gets to use _my_ heat as an excuse for murder?”

“If you end up killing Jaehwan, I’m sure a court will agree it was justified.”

“This is gonna sound stupid,” and his nervous ticks have crept back into his voice, “but thanks for talking to me. It’s good just _talking_ to someone who isn’t Jaehwan at this point, makes me feel less like I’m in purgatory for something that’s supposed to happen to me anyway.”

And that punches me to the ground harder than the nearly sickly sweet scent of Hongbin in heat. Being trusted—being _wanted_ —was too much when I could still see the tears in my comforter from knotting to the thought of him. It was too much. “No problem.” It’s a little strained and breathless but it’s the best I can manage without actually just breaking down here.

“Great, because I’m still absolutely going to _destroy_ you this game.” He laughs and I guess none of my tension bleeds through the line to Hongbin. I’m still just the baby alpha. I’m still trusted. I just wish I could tell him to stop.


	4. Now We

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side pairings really make their appearance here so: side kenvi and neo

It is well after Jaehwan returns to his own room with Hakyeon and gets out of Hongbin’s space and thankfully gets Taekwoon out of _my_ space that I notice something different about him. And it’s so easy to miss any changes in a group of idols always going through ‘concepts’ and hair changes. This has nothing to do with the company though (as least, god, I hope not). Jaehwan is sitting against the wall opposite me during dance practice, wearing a loose tank top like always, leaving his neck exposed, like _always_. But there is nothing tempting about it this time.

Hakyeon is talking dance or something like it next to me but none of it is reaching me, I just keep staring at Jaehwan’s neck. There is nothing calling out to me. There is no patch of skin that seems to glitter and shimmer on his neck. And I keep trying to subtly twist around to see his whole neck, keep checking both sides, checking for anything peeking out of his collar. And I _know_ where Jaehwan’s claim mark should be. I just keep doubting myself the longer I can’t find anything anywhere on his skin. But there’s no mark either. It’s all just smooth, unremarkable skin like any beta’s. And Jaehwan would _never_ let anyone think he was a beta. Something was definitely up.

When we finally break for lunch and all start filing out the door, I get pressed right up next to Jaehwan and I can only barely smell chocolate or caramel. After a full dance practice, I am still only barely smelling Jaehwan. Right next to him. Something is really fucking wrong. I settle down in the cafeteria of the company with Hongbin next to me, the others scattered around other tables. And I figure the only other omega in the group would know what’s up. Hongbin would definitely know if the company was trying to do anything shady with our omegas at least.

“Do you know what’s up with Jaehwan?” I ask after a comfortable silence of getting our lunches together.

He stops with a bit of vegetable halfway to his mouth. “Something’s up with Jaehwan?” He looks just as worried as I feel.

“He uh…” I don’t know how to explain that something is wrong with Jaehwan. I’m not an omega. This isn’t my territory and regardless of how delicately I phrase it, I’m just going to sound like an alpha stumbling through something he’s never going to experience. “He seems like he’s on suppressants.” I whisper lowly to Hongbin, making sure all the other members are occupied with their own conversations.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, letting the piece of vegetable fall from his chopsticks back into his bowl. “He’s not,” he pauses, his eyes wandering upwards like he was collecting his thoughts. “He’s not on suppressants. Don’t worry about that. _I’m_ not even on suppressants anymore, Jaehwan’s been off of them for a while.”

“It’s just like he’s been claimed but there’s no mark.” I try explaining. “I can’t see where his claim mark should be anymore. I can barely smell him but I don’t smell any alpha on him either.” I look down at my food sheepishly. “It’s just like he’s on suppressants.”

“What if he _was_ claimed?” He introduces gently.

“But there’s no mark. I know, I _searched_ for one.”

“What if they couldn’t make a mark because they weren’t an alpha?”

Not an alpha? _Jaehwan_ with anyone who wasn’t an alpha? _Our_ Jaehwan? It was honestly less believable than him willingly taking suppressants. It was weirder than him trying to pass as a beta. It was weirder than any other option I had dreamed up. “ _Jaehwan_?” I manage to keep it down to a whisper-scream that makes my voice crack. “Who?”

He holds his hands up like he’s proving they’re empty. “We don’t know anything for sure yet…” He trails off, his eyes wandering over to where Jaehwan was sitting. “That just makes the most sense.”

Wonsik is huddled in with Jaehwan, feeding him noodles when Jaehwan pouts at him hard enough. I still can’t see anything on Jaehwan’s neck. But maybe the temptation would fade if a beta bit it too. Maybe his scent would fade even if there was no alpha to cover it. Maybe it was a beta. “A beta?” I confirm.

“We really don’t know.” Hongbin still defends. “But maybe… probably.”

 Because there was more in the world than just alphas and omegas and being vessels for outdated instincts. My omega cousin who compulsively nested just recently got engaged to another omega, I heard from my parents. And there was always whatever was going on with Chansik (and with his alpha groupmates). Maybe a beta and Jaehwan could work out just fine (maybe Jaehwan could really be in love with a beta if it was Wonsik). If Jaehwan, who seemed just as in love with his biology as he was bound to it, still had some wiggle room to defy his instincts, I certainly did too.

Hongbin hates airports. It’s something I know about him without asking. He always hurries through the crowds, earbuds stuffed in his ears, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat, sometimes with his sunglasses on inside. Every fan-taken picture of him at the airport catches him looking visibly uncomfortable. And he’ll stay completely unreachable, hunched over on one of the benches in the terminal until we board and even then he’s short tense. It’s obvious, he hates it.

It’s on a plane ride back from Hong Kong that he decides to try something new to get through the airport. It’s beautiful fall weather and Hongbin is dressed in a classic and handsome airport outfit—striped sweater, cuffed jeans and a long coat. He’s not tense or uncomfortable the ride to the airport, he’s been talking the new League champ with me the entire time. He’s excited and stupid good with analysis. But then we pull into the drop-off lane and I can hear the click of cameras before the door even opens.

His excited talking slows to a complete halt, his shoulders drawing up to his neck, his whole body curling in on itself. He puts one earbud in and faces the open door with grim determination. I follow right behind him and I kinda get why he hates it. The sound of shutters clicking and camera lights flashing is overwhelming in an unsettling, inhuman way. It’s completely different from fansigns or concerts. But Hongbin still only has one earbud in, his hands swinging freely out in the open. He finds my hand without even looking, twining our fingers together with his other hand coming up to grip my arm.

It’s _intimate_ , the kind of pose the two romantic leads always take for the posters of dramas. It’s not like Hongbin who prefers his distance, especially in public. “You good, Bin?” I whisper into his free ear.

“I’m fine.” He gives me a tight smile. “It’s just better with an alpha.”

I know, in a sterile, scientific way from high school health classes, that having a trusted alpha with them can soothe omegas. I remember it can make them feel safe, protected, comforted. But drawing the line from plain facts presented in a classroom to _this_ , right here, is too hard. The implication that _I’m_ soothing Hongbin is almost too much to take in with his body half pressed into mine, his tiny hand and delicate fingers clasped in mine. It’s the first time he’s held my hand too, which I just can’t even _begin_ to process with cameras still in my face.

He searches my face and his smile warms up, becomes more natural. “ _You_ good, baby alpha?” He laughs. I guess I look as dumb and out of it as I feel.

I rub a comforting circle into the back of his hand. “It’s just better with an omega.” No one ever talked about omegas bringing any kind of natural comfort to their alphas. All the science pointed in the other direction. I think my health teacher only said vaguely that “some alphas might have positive reactions to travelling with a trusted omega.” There were no specifics, no evidence, just some vague accounts. I guess I’m one of those alphas though, because with Hongbin’s delicate body pressed into mine I feel more complete. I feel like this is something I’m _meant_ to do.

“Even if it’s not _your_ omega?” He laughs fearlessly, freely, so his teeth are bared to the cameras still focused on us.

“You’re some kind of mine.” It slips out as I’m stunned by his unrestrained beauty. He still feels delicate against me but it’s a beauty that isn’t delicate or slight or scrawny. It’s a kind of beauty that could never fit entirely in my hands.

“Of course you think that, alpha.” It’s not a petname but it is a fond little dig at me. His sparkle at me with implications, possibilities and he survives the airport (the one at home too) without closing himself off to the world. I wonder if he’s just getting lost in another world though (because, with him, I certainly am).

Girl group dances were always fun for the like fifteen seconds it takes to cover them on variety shows. But actually, really learning the choreography for a concert was a whole other beast. By the time me and Hongbin are done with dance practice for the special stage we agreed to do for the concert, it’s not fun anymore. I deeply regret thinking that putting the baby alpha in a wig in a skirt was so funny, I signed up for this voluntarily. It was stupid late by the time our dance teacher calls off practice, me and Hongbin were the only ones left in the building probably.

Hongbin is laid out like a starfish on the floor, flushed and sweaty. “You ready to go?” I ask, in no better condition slumped against the wall.

“Let’s wait until I can feel my legs at least.” He waves off. His voice is low and smooth—a pretty kind of _sure_. He’s pretty again, pretty in the opposite way of the way he is in a wig. He is long and relaxed limbs spread out on the floor, messy hair, bared neck—nothing to hide.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

He lolls his head over to me, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not getting in a pissing contest just because you’re bored, baby alpha.”

But I’m not interested in a pissing contest. This has nothing to do with my alpha pride. I just want to get home. I drag myself over where Hongbin is— _looming_ over him, my shadow manages to swallow him up entirely. He sticks his tongue out at me childishly, it’s cute and pink, I briefly register. I crouch down to grab his hand and haul him up. And it is _so_ easy, it’s like I’m doing nothing at all. He’s on his feet with no effort and I am too drained to be as amazed as I should be. Instead, I just shuffle him onto my back until no part of him is on the floor anymore.

He lets out a breathless, little “oh.” His skin is feverish against me and I’m suddenly smelling flowers again after becoming numb to it hours ago.

“You good?” I ask, my brain running behind my mouth so my words come out stunted. “I’m not hurting you right?” My grip doesn’t feel tight on him.

“No,” he breathes out, still quiet and breathless. “I just didn’t think you could pick me up.”

It was nothing to me, Hongbin’s light—too light even—and it takes no effort to carry him. He’s still scrawny, all bones that make for a pretty face but not a strong body. But I’m still the maknae to him. I’ve been watching myself bulk up, get taller, get big enough to even scare Taekwoon sometimes but maybe Hongbin wasn’t looking. This is natural to me but it’s probably totally new to him. “It’s easy.” I reply. “You’re probably the lightest in the group.”

He hums out a non-reply, shifting his legs in my hold so I have to readjust my grip too. I sort of toss him to get him settle right again and hear a bitten-on whine barely escape. Another wave of his delicate floral scent hits me.

“Comfy?”

He nods, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder blade as he does. He’s still warm enough to feel through my shirt. It’s a short walk from the practice room to the parking garage where our manager is waiting. But Hongbin gets comfortable in record time, his arms loosely thrown around my neck and his face firmly buried in my shirt. And I really don’t know if this is another one of his tests, his games. I don’t know if he just wants to see how much he can touch, here where he feels safe. Or if he’s really so out of it that his omega instincts have just taken over.

He finds the spot on my neck where my scent is strongest and nuzzles against it. He’s not just buried there, he keeps rubbing his cheek against my neck like he’s scenting himself. And I guess he could be, he’d always just taken comfort in mine and Taekwoon’s _clothes_ , never getting this close. And the warmth and the scent and the skin-on-skin and the nuzzling are kinda _getting_ to me. 

Then I realize the low, rumbling I kept hearing wasn’t just the sound of traffic or construction or anything outside. Because I could _feel_ it too. Hongbin was _purring_. Not the closest approximation to a purr he could get like Jaehwan was fond of doing. Hongbin could really purr. And I knew, in theory that some omegas could purr. Almost every omega in porn could purr, it was almost a prerequisite. But that was porn and this is real life and I can _feel_ Hongbin purring contentedly against me. And on top of the nuzzling and the warmth and the constant pulses of something floral and fruity in the air, it’s all too much.

It’s not quite like getting punched in the stomach, the way smelling Hongbin while he was in heat was, but it’s close. I grunt out an unintentional, low “oh,” stopping to hunch over for a second.

Hongbin just lazily curls his hand into the collar of my shirt. “You good, Hyogi?” He asks sleepily, everything about his posture still loose and relaxed. “Too heavy?”

“I just—” I grit out. “I just didn’t know you could purr.” I manage, my brain half-shut down completely and half-overrun with alpha instincts.

He tenses against me, his face shooting away from its perch in my neck. “I um,” I can feel him shaking his hair out of his eyes nervously, “I can’t really control it.” He laughs nervously, the same way my omega cousin would over her compulsive nesting.

“It’s not bad.” I assure quickly. “I just…didn’t expect it.”

He shifts on my back. “Here, I can walk now. Really.”

I keep my hands firmly gripped on his thighs, rubbing a soothing circle with one of them. “Don’t worry about it, Bin, just get comfy again.”

“No, really.” He tries.

“Really, you are so light, it’s like I’m carrying a baby.”

“I’ll bite you.” He threatens.

“An omega marking an alpha?” I muse. “Must be a scary, scary omega.”

He runs his nose up the line of my neck again, no longer so tense. “I’m the scariest omega you’ll ever meet.” He whispers. His gentle and low voice sends a shiver up my spine. He’s certainly the most… _something_ omega I’ll ever know.

Our manager is there with the same van he uses to pick up all six of us. Hongbin is still on my back by the time we get there. He clambers off my back directly onto one of the seats in the back of the van. “Practice was that rough, huh?” Our manager laughs.

“Kyary is no joke.” I respond lightly, climbing in right next to Hongbin.

The radio is on quietly in the background, the kind of smooth late night talk show that might as well just be a hum rather than words. Hongbin is squashed right up against me the backseat, leaning his head on my shoulder, nodding off on me. He’s still purring, low and near inaudible but I can _feel_ it.

“Smells like hard practice.” Our omega manager tells us and I guess Hongbin’s floral scent hasn’t subsided at all since we left the practice room. Or maybe it’s my woodsy scent that bothering him enough to say something.

We pull out of the garage onto the street and the yellowish streetlamps light up Hongbin intermittently. He’s wearing a loose tank top again, the strap falling down against his shoulder. And that glittering patch of skin is _right_ there. It’s the first thing I see when I look down. And it’s still overwhelming. It’s still so overwhelming. I’m still instinctually drawn to it. But there’s a lot more to experience now. Hongbin’s pretty face, lit up from all different angles under the passing lights. The feeling of him _purring_ against me. The low hum of the radio. Hongbin’s body, really slack and fully relaxed against me.

It’s no longer just the urge to sink my teeth into his neck—to claim to mark. The only fantasy running through my head is softly brushing my lips against the spot. Maybe flicking my tongue out to lick at it. Take a taste of sweet omega. Take a taste of _my_ sweet omega.

And _that’s_ something entirely different. That’s something other than instinct driving me.  I’m not painfully hard, on the verge of knotting because his sweet scent, his endearing purring. I’m just drawn in. His sweet scent is still clinging to my clothes, I can even smell myself on his skin. And it’s _good_ , I just want _more_. And I really don’t know what “more” entails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter will be slightly delayed bc life things but you can just think of it as extra anticipation <3


	5. Shooting Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love reminding you guys that this is a huge, huge sprawling universe we're only getting a tiny glimpse of so there's some neo in this chapter

When Taekwoon gets cast in his first musical, he spends most of his nights away from the dorms and I kinda end up moving into his empty bed across from Hongbin. It’s entirely unintentional. It’s just with our light schedules me and Hongbin spend more time in his room gaming and then one night instead of creeping back into my room late, I just pass out in Taekwoon’s bed. And then I keep passing out in Taekwoon’s bed. Hongbin obtains what could tentatively called permission when he texts Taekwoon about me sleeping in his bed and gets back a short and annoyed, _just make sure nothing smells like Hyuk when I get back_ in response. It’s just a temporary thing—an extended sleepover mostly. We stay up too late playing video games and gossiping about idols we do and don’t know. It’s the most I’ve felt like a normal kid since I came to Jellyfish.

One morning I wake up, half off of Taekwoon’s bed, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. Hongbin’s already up, his face still squished against his pillow, phone in his hand. I try to untangle myself from Taekwoon’s blankets and situate myself back on the bed and I see Hongbin’s eyes flick over to me, a snort escaping his lips. “What?” I mutter, meeting his eyes as best as I can from this angle.

He waves it off, going back to his phone. “Nothing.”

I manage to pull free from the blankets and get myself fully back on the bed. “No, really what?” I try again.

“Nothing.” He laughs. His eyes are warm, melty chocolate in the morning sunlight.

“Just tell me.” I laugh back. “Do I have drool on my face or something?”

“It’s _nothing_.” He stresses.

I toss a stray plushie his way. “ _What_?” I’m half-exasperated, half-amused.

“ _Nothing_ , baby alpha.” He tosses his pillow back at me. But when we finally meet eyes, we both start laughing so hard there are tears streaming down my face. I don’t even know why. Hongbin doesn’t even look ruffled by his sleep, his hair still pretty neat and his face free of pillow marks. There’s nothing funny about it. I feel like a pup again though, wanting to playfully pounce on Hongbin.

But I guess it is nothing. Nothing I can name at least. It’s _something_. Something that sparkles only at certain angles like spider silk. Something that only shows up in the morning sunlight when my eyes are still clouded with sleep.

After a few nights of me in Taekwoon’s bed Jaehwan pushes his elbow into Hongbin’s side and tells him that he’s only “trading one alpha for another” teasingly. He might be right. Me and Taekwoon are just so different. If Hongbin was missing Taekwoon’s quiet but somehow overwhelming presence and sharp and sour scent, I would’ve been a bad choice. Wonsik would’ve been better even. I’m an entirely different kind of alpha. I’m the baby alpha. And we’re just having fun while we have a little wiggle room in our lives.

It’s after a quiet fanmeet—one that Taekwoon has to skip out on because his musical—that I’m just lounging behind Hongbin, watching him play League. I’m not too keen on playing anymore after they nerfed my favorite character into the ground. But I’m fine with watching and Hongbin is as eager to play as he always is. Earlier in the day, I watched him play different games on stage in the front of the fans in a soft, soft, too big pink sweater. Now he’s backlit by unnatural blue light, in a hoodie that’s still too big for him (but this one is grey and smells like alpha) and boxers. It’s a different kind of beautiful but it is still beautiful.

I’ve been a mostly quiet bystander, watching Hongbin shout orders to his teammates and then mute his mic and bitch to me about how they can’t listen. And it’s mid-word, halfway through some rant about how their midlaner can’t pick any halfway decent champ to save his life that Hongbin takes my breath away. The glare of his screen is glinting off his bared teeth and his fiery eyes and I am just awestruck. It is not the Hongbin the cameras are privy to, not the Hongbin I first met all those years ago who barely smelled like anything let alone an omega, who couldn’t make unwavering eye contact with any of us, who recoiled sharply whenever anyone came close. There is nothing delicate about him. But it’s also not the hardened statue he pretended to be sometimes, there is a vulnerability to him being barefaced, only in boxers and my sweatshirt.

This is just Hongbin—barefaced, relaxed, passionate, _vulnerable_. I can trace the natural sharpness of his squared jaw, the shining softness of his wide eyes, get lost in the expanse of his broad shoulders. It’s all on display, right there. For me, maybe. And he’s beautiful. Without qualifications. He’s just beautiful. He’s the beautiful omega I dreamed up years ago, he’s an omega beautiful enough to praise in hushed tones like it’s a secret or a blessing. And I see it now, that shining, inviting, intoxicating brightness inside of Hongbin. There is something inside of him that I can only glimpse in implications and reflections but at least I can glimpse it now. And I feel like if I just reach out my fingers I could only just brush it but not close my hand around it. It’s so close—so, _so_ close—but not quite within reach. And I’m reaching my arm out to see if I can just _touch_ it. But then Hongbin is turning towards me, the light no longer catching on whatever I see.

“Earth to baby alpha.” He waves his hand in front of my face, his tone condescending and annoyed. “What fucking planet are you _on_?”

“What?” I manage, my tongue slow and uncoordinated.

“Just back me up that this son of a bitch is a fucking idiot for trying to toplane with Fiddlesticks.” He huffs.

“He’s a fucking idiot, you can’t toplane with Fiddlesticks.”

“Thank you, welcome back to earth, baby alpha.” He still sounds annoyed, his eyes are still blazing but it’s probably only partially my fault. And there will be another chance to see that thing sparkle and gleam inside of Hongbin. I’ll always be waiting for it to appear again now that I know there’s something there.

When Taekwoon finishes his musical and finally comes back to the dorms I go back to spending lots of time with Hongbin but no longer every waking second, no longer living on top of him. And Wonsik might as well have moved into his studio at the company building. And Jaehwan is, as always, flitting around between increasingly famous and important friends and Wonsik’s studio. But none of that is really what’s bothering me. In between me spending so much time with Hongbin and our slow schedules and the pet projects and leader duties he’s always busy with, I miss Hakyeon. I really miss Hakyeon.

And I’m not above using my spot as the baby to work my way into his space and getting some attention. One morning, I’m on my way out of the bathroom and I see Hakyeon on his way into the living room and I think it’s my chance. Taekwoon is lounging on the couch with a book in between us and I don’t even think to factor him in but Hakyeon stops behind him.

“Good morning, my darling Taekwoonie.” Hakyeon greets, pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of his head.

Taekwoon grunts out a response, clearly caught up in his book but does raise a hand to find Hakyeon’s face and tenderly cup his jaw. “Morning.”

Hakyeon sighs fondly, catching Taekwoon’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of his palm. “I see you’re busy.” He laughs. “I’ll come back when the book’s over, yeah?”

Taekwoon finally looks up, catching Hakyeon’s eye. He kinda looks like a little kid like that, his neck all stretched out to look at Hakyeon behind him, his eyes imploring. “Please do.”

Hakyeon just smiles down at him fondly. “I will.” He promises.

It doesn’t have to be anything. It doesn’t have to make me feel like I’ve missed out on something big. Hakyeon’s affectionate— _endlessly_ affectionate, he almost never lets anyone reject his affections. Even Hongbin who tried his best to avoid it for so long had gotten a sweet kiss pressed to his forehead or cheek from Hakyeon before. Two kisses so close together wasn’t even weird for any of us. It really was just how he was. The overly cute nicknames were just him too, the “dear”s or “darling”s or “sweetheart”s. It was the responding gentleness from Taekwoon that made it something else. Taekwoon was _rarely_ gentle with anyone else in the world, always cold and closed-off.

It’s less of a shock to think of Taekwoon with a beta than it was with Jaehwan. Taekwoon had always pretty clearly been uninterested in omegas—was always trying to wash the scent of omegas off of his clothes, always wrinkling his nose at Jaehwan’s heavy and sweet scent, was never possessive or protective of our omegas like I could get. I just don’t expect the beta to be _Hakyeon_. But maybe it’s still just nothing. Maybe it’s easier to be sweet with the only member older than him than with all of his expectant and rowdy “younger brothers.” Maybe I just caught some side of Taekwoon that was never meant for me.

We’re still on a light schedule even with Taekwoon back and we have the time to eat lunch at the dorms that day. Me and Hongbin end up being the only ones who eat in the kitchen. And Hongbin rooms with Taekwoon, was way closer with him too, he’d definitely know if something was up. I wait until it sounds like everything in the dorms have settled down, the TV in the living room playing something I can’t quite catch, to say something. “What do you think is going on between Hakyeon and Taekwoon?” I ask, shoving my mouth with noodles.

Hongbin frowns around his mouthful, really considering it. “I mean, they’re always having little fights. I don’t think it’s anything serious if it’s even anything.” He shrugs.

“No, like are they a _thing_?” I drop my voice down to a whisper.

His eyes widen in shock. “You’re only asking _now_?”

“I never do anything with Taekwoon.” I huff out defensively.

Hongbin smirks as my flustered expression. “Yes, they’re a thing.” He laughs.

I eat in embarrassed silence for a few moments before I really think about the mechanics of it. “But an alpha and a beta…” I trail off trying to make hand motions for what I’m thinking of. “Especially a _male_ beta.” I stress. “Like can that even _work_? It’s gotta hurt…”

Hongbin doesn’t answer, just looks at something behind me and then throws a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. I twist around to see what he’s laughing at and find Hakyeon going for more noodles, his face screwed up in amusement.

“Taekwoon, my love, do you want to hear just the most precious thing in the entire world?” Hakyeon calls into the living room.

Taekwoon gives a bored, “mhm,” in response.

“Hyukkie thinks you top, isn’t that just precious?”

I only get to hear Taekwoon’s flustered sputtering from the kitchen. “ _Sanghyuk_ shouldn’t know anything about that or you or me or anything!” He yells back.

“Isn’t it just sweet, though? Our baby doesn’t know anything he didn’t learn in sex ed.” Hakyeon sighs at me fondly. “Never grow up, my Hyogi.” He ruffles my hair and breezes out back into the living room.

My face heats up even worse at that. I _did_ know more than what they taught me in sex ed, just not in practice.

Hongbin’s still gasping out quiet little giggles. “You’ve really gotta broaden your horizons.” He laughs, rubbing salt into the wound.

I stab angry chopsticks into my noodles. I’ve been trying to. I mean, I considered Jaehwan with a beta already. I just didn’t have the experience the other members did. I was still just a baby when I started at the company. I only knew about most of the world in theory and not practice. But, honestly, Taekwoon probably got it worse, with his sex life just aired out there like that to the maknae.

It’s well into winter, some unpleasantly frigid day that me and Hongbin come back to the dorms alone after filming a vlive together. There’s plenty of scratches and surface wounds on Hongbin’s sensitive and dry skin again, all of them flaming up red and obvious on his skin. That’s the only thing left that reminds me of the delicate omega that wouldn’t make eye contact with me, the only member younger than him, though. Hongbin is all fearless smiles and bold laughter now, his sharp tongue cutting through each and every one of us so often it almost becomes a sign of affection.

And now there’s more than a fully-realized human being with angles and fears and dreams and insecurities and shared interests. Now there’s something shining endlessly, catching the light and blinding me, inside Hongbin. Something I _know_ is there now. I can’t see it now with the thin layer of clouds blocking out the sun, not letting it have any light to reflect. But I still know it’s there. Hongbin’s bundled up in his padded coat, a gentle and comfortable silence blanketing us. It’s not quite late yet with the sun still hidden behind the clouds but it’s been a long day.

Hongbin yawns without covering his mouth, baring all his teeth to the world. And with his mouth all stretched out it’s easier to see the parts of his lips that are more red than pink, the chapped skin, the splits from the weather.

I click my tongue worriedly. “Bin, your lips are _so_ chapped.” I reach my hand up to brush my thumb over the splits in the corners instinctually. “Is it okay if I touch you?” I ask, my thumb hovering over his lips, my voice barely over a whisper.

Hongbin’s eyes are barely red-rimmed and half-lidded. His makeup is only partially clinging onto his dry skin. His lips barely parted to show a sliver of his front teeth. The whole thing dulled by the clouds hanging over us and the yellow streetlights. He doesn’t even glance my way when he responds. “You can touch me however you want.” He breathes back.

“Oh,” is all I can manage. My thumb still doesn’t quite drop onto his skin.

His eyes immediately widen in shock, hearing what slipped out of his mouth and he lets out a little gasp of his own. “I mean—” He catches my eye and laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. “I trust you. You don’t have to ask every time.”

I laugh too, my thumb just catching on the chapped skin of his lips. “I never imagined anything like this.”

“Well,” he spreads his arms wide like I have to take in the snowy street and yellow streetlights to really take in the moment. But it’s got nothing to do with the warmth in his eyes, the glint of something beautiful and endlessly shining inside of him. “Here we are.”

I let my thumb drop onto his lips, stroking over the rough skin once. And I guess everything that needed to be said, was said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just kidding about this being the last chapter lol but the real last chapter is kinda just a bonus so i'll leave it marked "complete"


	6. Shangri-La

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't even tell if this is sexy or good or not i've been staring at it for so long ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It’s easier to tell that Hongbin’s getting close to his heat this time. Partially because he’s been off his suppressants for a while now. I remember being in the waiting room of some music show when he nervously explained to me that he’d never taken suppressants before he was with the company. “And that’s why _that_ heat hit me like a fucking freight train.” He tells me, laughing nervously and looking around to make sure none of the other groups were listening.

I can’t say anything about _that_ particular heat, obviously. So we just share a moment of tense silence, knowing it was only a thin wall between unstoppable primal forces _yearning_ for the other before I get called over for makeup.

And partially because I _know_ Hongbin now. I spend a stupid amount of time with him leaving my clothes always smell like lingering flowers and delicate fruit now. I can tell he’s getting a little clingier, smelling a little sweeter now because I know what’s normal for him. It’s not as obvious as it is with Jaehwan, it’s really not similar to Jaehwan at all but nothing Hongbin has ever done ever reminded me of Jaehwan anyway. It’s not even really “omega” things that tells me that Hongbin is close to his heat. His “nest” is mostly just a pile of my laundry on his bed. His clinginess is downplayed, the extra sweetness in his scent is barely noticeable with how delicate his scent normally is.

It’s how antsy he is, how he can’t seem to pay attention to anything, how he always has something between his nervous fingers that makes me think he’s close to heat. Which is fine because the company somehow, magically got our omegas’ heats to line up and finished up group promotions right before they hit. So Hongbin’s nervous habits and lack of attention only impacts his League rank and not anything related to VIXX. I’ve been camping out in Taekwoon’s bed again because he’s off doing LR promotions and because Hongbin asked me to stay for a while. I’ve been watching Hongbin distractedly click between several games, a couple livestreams and his social media for the whole day, never committing to anything for more than a few minutes before moving on to something else.

It’s only early afternoon when Hongbin finally just groans in frustration and throws his hands up in the air. “I can’t do this.” He near growls. “You play.”

He abandons his sweet, sweet gaming chair to me and burrows into the barely-assembled nest on his bed. I think he’s partially replacing his nest with my favorite grey hoodie which he hasn’t taken off since he stole it from me after our last dance practice. It’s a look on him, though, just my hoodie and boxers.

He doesn’t stay on his bed long, slithering back up to his chair and draping himself over me after only a game or so. He winds his arms around the back of the chair, reaching around to my waist and burying his face in my neck.

“I thought you wanted me to play?” I tease, running my fingers through his hair without turning around.

“Don’t mind me,” he murmurs, “keep playing.”

I’m not playing, though, I’m stuck waiting to queue and with Hongbin’s rank it could be another half hour. So I’m just watching a loading screen and feeling him nuzzle into me. And it doesn’t just smell lightly fruity and floral or like wood and cloves. It smells like both of us—so deeply intertwined I can’t separate them. It’s a clearing in the forest, a sunny picnic, a fresh baked pie. It doesn’t take long for him to wiggle in between his desk and his chair, clambering into my lap.

I just laugh because I never imagined a clingy Hongbin, never imagined him only half-dressed and gentle, climbing into my lap. I run my hand up the back of his neck and over his hair fondly. He goes right back to pushing his face into my neck, right into my scent gland. “Why don’t I just mark you if you wanna smell like me so bad?” I joke.

He takes in a shuddering breath, the room flooding with sweet, sweet flowers and fruit. He looks up at me from under dark lashes, coyly, sinfully. “Why don’t you?” His voice is low and steady and _sure_.

“Oh,” I whisper. My heartbeat picks up, my nostrils flare, my pupils dilate.

“So,” he drawls, an easy smirk gracing his face, “be mine, Sanghyuk?”

I growl, my hand coming up to cradle the back of his head and smash our lips together. Hongbin plays a pretty omega, sighing contentedly into my mouth, melting into me, playing submissive. My fingers knot into his hair instinctually, the other hand gripping into his hip. He opens his mouth to me languidly, his tongue just barely poked out to me. He tastes faintly sweet and it lingers in my mouth. I can feel the damp spot forming on his boxers start to seep into my sweatpants. “This isn’t because—” I whisper against his mouth, harsh and frantic. “This isn’t because your heat right?”

He gives me an easy smile, cupping my cheek. “It’s not even here yet. I’m not—” He sighs. “It’s just because of you, Hyukkie.”

I trail kisses from the corner of his mouth down his jaw and Hongbin just tilts his head back and lets me. He just keeps _letting_ me. I press my thumb into the juncture between his neck and his shoulder and rub over the shimmering, glittering spot that could be his claim mark. He curls his fingers into my shirt, clutching in tighter. And then I hear it— _feel_ it—he’s _purring_.

“That feels nice.” He sighs. “It’s not gonna get me off or anything,” he laughs, “but it’s nice.”

So I take my mouth away from his skin and watch—his head lolled back, his eyes mostly closed. The edge of his desk digs into his back, the screen lighting him up unnatural blue. “We can’t do this here.” I breathe, still awestruck.

“Good idea.” He laughs, getting cut off by his own purring.

I drop him on the bed and he whines, the air getting choked out by sweet, sweet flowers again. I can see the shining, glimmering slick between his thighs now. I can trace the glimmer up his legs until the light glints off of something else. And Hongbin is just _glowing_ now, the shimmer inside him leaking out through his skin. I trace my fingers up his torso, resting my palm against his heart. “How long—how long ago could we have started doing this?” My breath catches in my throat as I watch his eyelashes flutter back open.

“Right now, it had to be right now.” He answers, quiet and sure.

And the light in Hongbin is no longer partially obscured, there in reflections and implications only. It’s right there in front of me. It radiates over the entire room and I _can_ close my fingers around it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s so heavy in my hands and Hongbin looks so relieved when I can close my fingers around it, hold it for him. He must’ve been dying to put it in someone else’s hands even if just for a little bit. Must’ve had to really trust someone to hand it over...must really trust me.

It had to be right now because he didn’t trust me enough before. I could wiggle my fingers into all the little cracks in his defenses all I wanted. I would still have to wait for him to place it in my hands to really hold it and here he is. I trail my hand back down his arm, linking our fingers together. “I’m yours.” I confess.

He sighs out a fond little laugh, arching his body into mine, leaving nothing covered or hidden from me. “I’m yours.” He repeats and it’s almost a challenge, the way his eyes glow and tease from under his eyelashes. “So take me.”

I let my hands creep onto the insides of his thighs, wandering over the trail of slick—up and up, pushing past his boxers.

“Yes.” He hisses, his legs falling open for me. “Fingers, fingers, _please_.” He whines.

He’s twitchy and impatient, pushing up into me, can’t keep still. “That’s all you want?” I whisper lowly.

He whines louder, more impatient, bucking his hips up. “ _Please_?”

I use my free hand to push his hips back into the bed and make sure that he’ll _look_ at me. “ _That’s_ what you want?” I confirm.

He laughs flippantly. “I think it’s a good start at the very least.” He loops his arms around my neck and pulls me down for a messy kiss, the sweetness still lingering on him.

So I push my fingers up further and it’s so _warm_ —it’s burning hot at his core. And when my fingers finally clumsily find his entrance, circling around he mewls.

“C’mon,” he goads, “ _please_.”

And there’s so much slick, the first finger slips past without me really meaning to. He sighs in relief, though, going boneless against the mattress. “Good?” I ask, moving my mouth down to his neck.

“Great.” He drawls, breathless.

There is no resistance, no matter how far I push my fingers into the searing heat of Hongbin. He just keeps sighing and mewling, trying to push my fingers farther. And he can clearly take more than what I’m able to give. And he just keeps getting hotter. He’s always been so hot under my touch, feverish even. I wonder if he was always just reacting to the attraction that always simmered between us. I wonder if it’s something he’s ever been conscious of. I slip in a second finger to join the first.

“Thank you.” He groans. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I crook both fingers, my mouth hovering over his claim mark. He squeals, his legs desperately trying to spread farther under me. He’s still got his boxers and my sweatshirt on and it’s messy, unplanned, frantic. My wrist is starting to cramp at this angle, closed in by his thighs, by the mattress, by his clothes. He seems not to notice the damp cloth on his skin or the less than ideal angle though. He seems lost to his instincts, trying to please his alpha. And it’s the frantic sincerity, the almost fear with which he thanks me that makes my chest ache. “You don’t have to say anything, baby,” I assure, “I’m gonna give you everything you need, ok?”

He bites on his tongue and nods his head frantically, tangling up his pretty hair. “I know, I know.” He breathes and he’s not serene and languid anymore. His eyes aren’t steady and sure, neither is his voice. “I know it’s okay.”

With the way his breathing breaks up his sentences I can’t tell if it’s “I know. It’s okay.” or “I know it’s okay.” But I’m determined to take whatever fear, whatever trepidation settled in his shaky pupils and wavering voice away again. I pres a gentle kiss to where his claim mark could be and I don’t feel the overwhelming urge to sink my teeth into his skin. He’s already mine. I’m already his. When I dart my tongue out to taste the skin it’s just barely sweet. The rest of his skin is salty with sweat. I never would’ve thought. “I only want you to feel good, that’s all.”

“Feels good.” He grits out on the backend of a harsh pant. I try spreading my fingers just to try it and that leaves the sweetest satisfied sound tumbling from his lips. “It’s been so long,” he sighs, “since I felt full like this.” He finds my eyes again and his pupils aren’t shaking anymore at least.

“You want more?”

The corners of his mouth tug upwards, his eyes sparkling and shining. “Give me whatever you can.” It’s somewhere between permission and a challenge.

I slip a third finger in with the others, letting the pads of my fingertips curl over his walls. He chokes on an almost sob.

“Faster, _please_.” He whines. “You’re killing me, Hyukkie.”

I snort, going back in for a soft kiss. “Just ask, Binnie.” He doesn’t let it stay a soft kiss, panting into my mouth, one hand digging his nails into my arm, the other keeping me pulled in for the kiss. I try my best to speed up, still cramped in-between his legs and the bed and I keep the pads of my fingers running over anything inside of him I can reach. Hongbin still isn’t loud, not really—tense fingers, trembling thighs, heavenly sighs, bitten-on whimpers.

And then he’s frantic, his hips bucking up into me, his fingers scrabbling harshly against my skin, his breathing rhythmless. I gasp and realize that I’ve lost the smell of flowers somehow, gotten used to their sweet choking while watching him. Bin is quiet when he cums, all long and graceful lines stretched taut across the bed. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is a series of breathy mewls. 

I’m going _insane_ looking at him like this, my fingers still buried deep inside him. The scent of flowers and fruit hangs heavily in the air, not delicate but not so overripe and sweet it was on the verge of rotten either. It’s just my heartbeat in my ears, my nostrils flaring, my pupils so enlarged my eyes look all black. My instincts are gnawing at my insides telling me to take him, to mark him, to claim him. Luckily I am too stunned to do anything.

He cracks his eyes open to meet mine and he is utterly relaxed, content, assured, confident and one hundred percent sin looking at me with half-lidded eyes like that. “Go on,” he goads, “bite me, Hyukkie.” But that’s the one thing I _can’t_ do. I _can’t_ bite, I _can’t_ mark, I _can’t_ claim. And then he taps leisurely at the hallow beneath his collarbone.

I pin both of his wrists above his head even though there is no resistance, there is nothing but enthusiastic compliance. All the taut lines of his orgasm melted into gentle curves on the bed. And I growl because there is an alpha in me desperately trying to claw to the surface and I sink my teeth into his delicate skin. 

He hisses in pure satisfaction, arching into me before melting back into the bed. I’m still desperately, achingly hard but I’m more human now. “I didn’t—” I pant, the words barely coming out as words. “I didn’t know you could cum like that.” 

“Of course,” he huffs out a sigh of a laugh. “Of course, I can. I’m an omega.” 

I lick at my suddenly achingly dry lips. “I mean, I knew. I just didn’t _know_.” I try to explain. “It’s always different when it’s you, when I’m seeing you.” 

He smiles fondly, the crinkle of his eyes pushing tears to the corners of his eyes.

And the alpha in me is forgotten or a better alpha is found. Either way, my instincts to mark and claim and take are shoved away in favor of pure concern for Bin. I wipe at the tears frantically. “Are you okay?”

He laughs, wiping the remainder of the tears away himself. “This is just…” he waves his hand, searching for the words, “part of it, I guess. I’m fine.” And he pulls me into a kiss that is just a meeting of smiles, both of us grinning too stupidly to really kiss.

When his hand slips from the nape of my neck and we part, it all really starts to become _real_. I can hear the muted sounds of League coming from Bin’s headphones, can feel the pain shooting through my wrist from fingering him (from _fingering_ him, it’s still hard to wrap my head around), can feel my hard-on pressing against my sweatpants. It looks like reality is starting to settle in with Hongbin too as he shifts uncomfortably in his soaked boxers and damp shirt and blinks into the harsh light of the computer screen. And I look at him and he looks at me and we just start laughing again. Because it’s real. What just happened is _real_ now. But it was a long time coming anyway.

“When did you know?” I ask when I’ve stopped laughing long enough to speak again.

He shrugs. “Always, I guess.” He wrinkles his nose like he’s thinking. “You always smelled like _home_ and an alpha shouldn’t smell like _home_ to me so I was always trying to get away from you but it looks like you can’t always fight your biology.” He laughs, nodding to our still-intertwined fingers.

“When I first smelled you in heat you smelled like _mine_.” I confessed. “I thought I was just being a dumb alpha, losing it over any omega in heat but I guess it was you after all.”

“I guess it _was_ you after all.” He repeats fondly. Then he grimaces, shifting around in his clothes. “I really need to change, though.”

We both briefly look around for a change of clothes for him before my eyes land on the pile of my clothes on the bed opposite us. Hongbin’s bed.

Bin laughs, looking at the mess underneath us. “This is Taekwoon’s bed.”

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for sticking around while i like procrastinated through this last chapter <3  
> if there are any kenvi or neo shippers left in the year of our lord 2k19 i might do a kenvi or neo spin off (but only after i write for some other groups for a while lol) hmu at [tumblr](angelinmyheartt.tumblr.com) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Nitzer) to motivate me or yell at me or whatevs


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